


Yes You Can Do Whatever You Want

by xfilesgeese



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Comedy, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fox Mulder Angst, Funny, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Kansas, Love, Miscommunication, Romance, chris carter could never, i have no idea...., kinda inspired by bad blood- quagmire and detour, light mulder torture, mulder and scully are pissed at each other, small town case, written in the style of a single x files episode
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:01:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28736142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xfilesgeese/pseuds/xfilesgeese
Summary: Mulder and Scully travel to a small town in Kansas where they investigate an invisible force that awakens every 50 years and strikes three times within a week at random. Mulder is set on this theory and goes a bit in over his head on this one. Scully is already annoyed that Mulder dragged her out there and that they have to share a bathroom in the motel. As things get more intense, Mulder and Scully have a heated conversation where he walks out to finish the case himself. Oh no!!! What will happen?!!
Relationships: Fox Mulder & Dana Scully, Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	1. Someone Clearly Had Light Cream Cheese on their Bagel Today

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter was written by TheSixthRedux (LostInTheCityofAngels), also known as the_sixth_redux on instagram!
> 
> If you don't know USA geography... sorry. You might be lost. I did my research to get this very accurate.

Council Grove, Kansas  
Thursday, 9:56 p.m.

If it wasn't for the modern street signs, or cars parked around, someone passing through the small town with a population of around two-thousand might have thought they were living in colonial town. This was partly true as Council Grove was incorporated by the Legislature in 1858 and served as a stop on the Santa Fe trail.

The place was definitely what you would call a small peaceful town, where everyone knew everyone. Peaceful it was for a while, until one night Braden Jake was driving through downtown after a long day at work. He has lived there all his life, and would notice if anything has changed. He works at the cemetery half an hour out, tending to the headstones, and keeping track of plots. The place was small enough where only him and a few others were needed. He doesn't mind working there, as it was his father's job after he retired from the army. Like father, like son.

Driving the opposite way through the downtown stretch, is Marty Branson. He works at the local diner during the day shift, serving home-made barbecue and beer.  
As he stops at the stoplight, he notices the light post flickering. He knows that maintenance had replaced all the lights yesterday, and they were too good at their job to skip over any. He makes a mental note to remind someone to check it out later.

It doesn't occur to him that he's been at the stoplight for a minute when no one is in sight until the radio announces how it's the new hour, so he stops to check the time. The clock is nine minutes later than it should be.

"What the-" he mutters hitting the dashboard of his prized 1974 El Camino. Pressing the pedal, he realizes his car has died. "Son of a bitch!" He gets out and looks around, the flickering getting faster in pace, possibly causing more torment at that hour that he wishes he was already at home.

Walking to the back of his trunk, something sweeps him from under his feet, and he falls forward but is able to catch himself. He is starting to get nervous and can feel the sweat on his palms forming. He just needs to get to the safety of his home.

He gets up again, only this time everything moves too fast to comprehend. Braden is flung in the air and he hears a sickening crack as he hits the light post. Looking around, under the dim, flickering light, he does not see anything that could have caused this. He wants to call out to the other car he sees, shining headlights at him. He's aching too much to get up, but forces himself to a sitting position where he feels someone grab him. No one was around.

Being a man, he did not care or feel like shouting out for help. He could manage this damned thing on his own. He realizes the flickering has stopped and an ever so slight black outline is now in front of him. He shouts, loud enough for the entire downtown to hear. The flat terrain allows the sound to travel and by now, someone must have heard him. He is thrown again in the air, his head thrown onto the light post again, his body slicing straight down through the canopy.

Braden Jake has seen it all. He watched as the events unfolded and winced as he heard the bloodcurdling scream from his buddy.  
Supernatural forces aren't real, he tells himself. Braden hasn't been drinking or taking any drugs and he damn well knew that. He took one more look at the sight, before turning around, heading to the police station.

*X-Files theme* dooo doooo dooo dooo doooooo dooooo (duh duh duh duhhhh duh dunnnnn) *replace "The Truth is Out There" with "Mulder!"

Somewhere on K-117, Southbound  
Friday 10:23 a.m.

"As far as I see, this should be a case where we have no jurisdiction," Scully says, correcting the map in Mulder's lap which lay upside down. He swats her hand away. "You aren't even telling me all the details."

"What the locals, and everyone else did not pick up on, was that there was a similar case, exactly fifty years ago that took place just ten miles from the border in Nebraska, therefore it is a federal crime." Mulder throws a sunflower seed out the window, taking in sight of the endless fields. "According to the map, we should be in town in thirty minutes."

"Assuming you read it correctly the first time," she replies, sighing.

"Someone clearly had light cream cheese on their bagel today," he says.

"You woke me up at 4:00 a.m. to take a flight to Kansas with very little explanation, but somehow Skinner approved this."

"Well..."

Her eyes go wide. "Don't tell me you went against his orders! Oh, Mulder."

"Take a nap. We'll be there soon."

"I'm not napping! Especially in front of you."

They do not speak the rest of the way until buildings finally come into their horizon.

"The town has 15 sites listed on the National Register of Historic Places," Mulder says, breaking the silence as they pass the 'Welcome to Council Grove' sign.

"It's not extraterrestrial alien sight-seeing. I don't see anything great about this."

"Just trying to change the mood," Mulder says, frustrated that Scully is still somehow pissed at him. He tries to think if there was any other reason why she might be angry at him.

Scully notices many people on the streets around a certain area. For a town of two-thousand, there should not be around 15% all in one location, not to mention all of them are dressed super casually. "We're going to be the talk of the town," she murmurs to Mulder.

"Should I taken a three hour detour to stop at Bass Pro Shops? I just know you'd love wearing those clothes. You'd be so adorable." Usually Scully would blush at a compliment from Mulder, but she doesn't think he means it right now. "Get your badge ready."

Mulder drives up to half the street where caution tap and and roadblocks are set up. He gets out and goes over to one of the officers. "Agent Fox Mulder, FBI."

"Officer Cooper." He shakes his and Scully's hand after she introduces herself. "I don't believe we got a call that the Feds would be coming. KC divison?"

"No, we're from D.C."

"Now why would you make your way all the way here? I appreciate your concern, but this is a local case."

"You see-"

"My partner and I would like to see the body," Scully interrupts.

They duck under the caution tape, everyone watching them closely, because who has ever seen two people in the middle of the midwest wearing suits in a colonial-like town? Mulder laughs to himself, hoping they don't think they're Mormons.

Mulder notices the lack of officers. Around ten are standing there. "How many officers do you have for the station?"

"Currently, seven. We're a small community. I think some other local officers are coming to assist. Why did they call the feds?"

"There might be a possible connection to an older case," Mulder replies.

There are tents set up blocking the body, and they don't understand why until they see for themselves.

"Oh my god," Scully says covering her mouth. Mulder does the same. "Who is this?"

"Marty Branson, age thirty. He worked at the diner. Everyone loved him."

"Any witnesses?"

"Yes. One. He's at the station with one of our officers."

"What's he saying? Let me guess, invisible, supernatural force?" Mulder says.

The other man's eyes go wide. "Why, yes. How did you know?"

"There is a connection," he says to Scully before turning back to him. "I think we have a serial murderer, to start."

"Well Braden Jake, our witness isn't a sane enough witness. He works at the graveyard and is an army veteran. They call him 'Spooky.'"

Scully glances for a split-second at Mulder. "Would you say he's had enough trauma to interfere with his thinking and what he sees?"

"I guess."

Mulder frowns, but he makes his way closer to the body. "Why has he been out here all night? No one has removed the body."

"Err, we thought other law officials would take care of that."

"What time did this happen?"

"Just around 10:00 p.m."

"You're sure no one messed with the scene?"

"No, there were five minutes between the time Braden drove from here to the station. Someone could've but unlikely."

"Not really," Mulder replies. "A lot can happen in five minutes. Do you have security footage?" He looks around for cameras.

"We don't have a single one except in the station," he replies.

"You small town-Midwest people are too kind," Mulder says. He then watches as Scully puts on her gloves and looks at the nasty sight. "We should send him to Quantico for an autopsy," he tells her.

"Quantico?!" Both Scully and the officer are questioning what he had said. "The local coroner is about half an hour away."

"Alright, but I want my partner doing the work."

"It is a mystery how he managed to fling up and fall down with tremendous force, but the probable cause of death is obvious."

"Blunt force trauma to the head, and a skewer to go with it. Something tells me no one will want barbecue on a stick anymore, including me. I was looking forward to some Kansas City BBQ," Mulder replies nonchalantly. "Let's go to the station."

"Is this guy for real?" The officer asks Scully as Mulder walks back to the car.

She gives him "that" look and tells him they'll meet at the station to interview Braden.

Council Grove Police Station  
11:15 a.m.

Mulder and Scully enter the small station. It feels like a dog day from one of those 80s coming of age movies when they step in. The humidity is not pleasant, but they get used to it. On the left, they see one older officer.

"We're agents Fox Mulder and Dana Scully with the FBI," Mulder says.

"Chief Horne. I wasn't aware of a federal investigation."

"Well there is a connection to a Nebraska case," Mulder replies. How many times will he have to keep explaining himself. "We're here to interview Braden Jake."

"We've already tried that. So far, he's our only suspect. It's shocking. Morally, I'd say he never did it, but that guy is not right in the head and he's the only witness. He's in the first door on the right."

"Does he have a lawyer?"

"He's coming soon."

They both entered, showing him their credentials to him.

"Mr. Jake?"

"That's me."

"Can you explain to us in every single detail what happened?" Mulder asks. They both listen to the story, intently. Mulder nods when he starts talking about the supernatural invisible force, but Scully doesn't.

"You believe me?" He asks Mulder. "Everyone calls me 'Spooky.'"

"Talk about it," he mutters. "I do. If this thing is out there, I want to catch it, and I will clear your name."

"Thank you, Agent!" He leans in closer. "Are you actually FBI?"

"Yes."

"Mmkay, 'cause for some reason I thought you were going to try to convert me."

Mulder gives a fake smile before leaving, shutting the door behind him.

"Mulder. Let's say, this is an invisible force. What makes you think he'll strike again?"

"According the Nebraska case, this entity emerges every fifty years. It's been documented the past two hundred, some only one handwritten account. That's beside the point. It usually kills three times. The first is so-called an "average" kill, while the second, he injures badly, but never kills, and the third- well. The victim dies in the most brutal torturous way imaginable."

"Are you mixing up your Grimm's fairytales with playground horror stories?"

"Scully, listen to me. This thing strikes randomly but always in a span of a week from the first kill to the third. We'll be here a while."

"I should inform the KC division. "They're a bit far. I'm sure they don't care. It's an X-file. Let's find a motel now."

Mulder walks up to the Chief again. "What's the best motel?"

"We have one. You'll see it if you just keep driving straight out for a couple minutes. It's on the left."

"This looks like Norman Bates' motel," Mulder says, pulling up. "Literally."

They walk into the main building, and one elderly woman is sat behind the front desk, fanning herself as she watches the television.

"Excuse me," Mulder says. "We'd like two rooms."

"Alright." She picks up two keys and throws them on the stand. "Just sign your names here." They comply. "And I forgot mention, one bathroom connects both of your rooms."

"I'm sorry. We are work partners. Have you got any more rooms?"

"The other three are occupied. Sorry. They don't leave for another few weeks."

"Who are these people?"

"Sorry hun, I can't tell ya."

"Ma'am, I'm with the FBI," Scully says showing her badge. She looks at the names on the page. They looked average to her.

"Regardless of who they are, you won't be able to switch rooms. If you don't like it, get a sleeping bag and take it to the wheat fields, where praying mantis will stalk you."

"This is fine," Mulder quickly replies, ushering Scully out. He hands her the key and they both go into their rooms, right away searching for the bathroom.

"How awful is this," Scully says. Thin walls too. Every single case I wonder why I'm here, then I remember. I'm your partner."

"Yes, and ditching would not be very professional, nor nice, now would it?"

"Speak for yourself."

"It's almost lunchtime. How about some beef skewers?"

Scully closes the door between them. Mulder can just picture Scully rolling her eyes at him.


	2. … he wants to kill me of malnutrition… damn it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written by Violetta_Valery.

The Motel at Council Grove, Kansas  
11:27 pm

Having received the body of poor Marty Branson sometime in the afternoon, the local morgue sent a car and picked up Scully for what was promising to be a challenging autopsy, given the state of the corpse. Mulder stayed behind to analyze the crime scene and review pictures and preliminary reports from the local police, to which she was grateful. She could use a break from her overexcited partner and focus 100% on her task, in an attempt to ease herself from the cranky mood of the morning. 

By the time the autopsy was finished, not only Scully was still cranky, but now also exhausted, starving and longing for an eight-or-nine-hour shower. To make things better, the officer responsible for driving her back to the motel tried to get handsy in the car. She had no energy to deal with it in a polite, professional way, which unfortunately for the rude officer translated into a full slap in his face and a “get your hands off me” so loud he experienced instant tinnitus.

“Hey Scully, how was it?” as she enters the room, Mulder’s standing in front of her door of the shared bathroom with a towel and a change of clothes in his hands. “What did you find in our skewed friend?”

Scully raises her index finger to him without saying a word, and by the look on her face, Mulder can’t tell if it means “wait a moment” or “shut up”, so he freezes and waits for any indication it’s safe to speak. He could tell by her face, index finger up or not, that she’d had a crappy afternoon. Last time she threw something at him were merely latex gloves, but right now, she’s holding her briefcase, so he won’t take any chances. 

She throws herself in the bed atop the duvet and sighs, almost sorrowfully. “Are you coming in or out of the bathroom?”

“I was just about to take a shower. I won’t take lo...”

“... So you had all this time before I got from the morgue and waited for me to arrive to get in the shower?” Scully’s voice slightly increases in pitch as irritation takes over. “Please tell me you at least saved me some food.”

“I, uh… I thought you’d eat there, it’s so late and you didn’t call to say anything, so…” he points at the greasy empty boxes of Chinese by the only trash bin they had, at their shared bathroom, his face stamped with the most endearing puppy eyes he can summon. She’s pissed, and he knows it.

Scully looks at him as if she’s going to spit fire. She opens her mouth to speak but closes it, then raises her finger once again and storms out of the room, banging the door with such force the jamb cracks.

“Damn it, Mulder…” she mumbles on the way to the vending machine, trying to find something edible. “Sucker!” She grabs two Snickers, a pack of Snyder’s and a Gatorade “he’s gonna be the death of me… he wants to kill me of malnutrition… damn it…” she sees the old-fashioned cigarette vending machine and can’t resist it: she needs that one self-pity, mood-appeasing smoke tonight. It’s been ages since she’s done that, but whatever. Heading back to the room with her junk supper, she sits by the window and lights up the cigarette, inhaling the hideous and soothing smoke while biting bits of Snyder’s.

In the bathroom, Mulder showers the tiring day away. His head’s spinning over the case, but inadvertently his thoughts turn to Scully; he really could make her life a bit easier, she’s always by his side no matter what, and all he did today was piss her off and let her starve. He’s feeling guilty as hell as he turns off the shower and gets dressed. 

“Scully, I’m sorry I’ve been such a… what the hell???”

“What?” at this point Scully couldn’t care less about his shocked stare.

“You’re… smoking? Inside the room? Geez, is this Comity all over again, that’s why you’re so moody today..?” so much for an apology. Way to go.

“Shut up, Mulder. Are you done with the bathroom?”

Scully has all her things ready and walks towards the door, not waiting for an answer from Mulder and pushing him through the bathroom until he disappears on his side. She closes the door, turns on the shower and feels her body relaxing under the warm water. Oh yes, she could stay there for eight or nine hours. Actually, she doesn’t really know how long she’s been there when the water begins to cool, so she steps out, wraps herself in a towel and stands in front of the sink to brush her teeth, wondering how she could soften the dark circles she was sure would still be under her eyes in the morning. She’s so tired and absorbed in her own thoughts she doesn’t hear a slight knock, followed by the door squeaking behind her.

“Scully, is everything al… oh my god!”

“MULDER!” with the scare, Scully accidentally lets the towel fall. In a fraction of a second, her face and chest are as red as her hair in embarrassment and fury. She quickly grabs back the towel and covers her body. “Can’t you knock, damn it??? This is exactly why the Bureau prohibits partners to share rooms...”

As if it’s possible, Mulder is even more embarrassed than his partner, frozen and stiff on his feet, but can’t help noticing how insanely adorable Scully looks all flushed, clenching the towel as if her life depended on that. He can’t also help feeling his heartbeat racing at the fleeting sight of naked Scully from a nanosecond ago. “I did knock, and you didn’t answer! You’ve been there over an hour, I thought...”

“Enough, Mulder! Now get out!”

As Scully’s about to shove Mulder out through the door on his side of the bathroom for the second time tonight, a loud cry for help cuts through the silence of the night. Startled, they look at each other.

“This can’t have been over 100 yards from here, Mulder.”

“Get dressed, get your gun and meet me at the motel entrance, Scully. If I’m right, the victim’s not dead and we need to get to them right now!”


	3. Strike Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written by TheSixthRedux

A neighbor's backyard

11:43 p.m.

Scully stumbles closely behind Mulder, because of course he always runs off and never waits. She could a mile long list of the times, but the ink would run out before she could finish.

She can see the flashing blue and red lights as she approaches, and she can make out the tall silhouette of Mulder bending down, then quickly getting back up to walk over to her.

"He's alive, but barely. I knew it. Strike two," Mulder says, making the umpire movement as Scully rolls her eyes.

"So if if you're correct-"

"Then within the next day, he'll savagely murder someone the most brutal way possibly. And you thought the skewering was bad!" Mulder's eyes go wide, and he wiggles his fingers as he says in almost a faint whisper, "Spooky!"

The paramedics say they're taking the man to the Kansas City hospital because the local ones are not good enough for trauma.

"Scully, if I'm right, which I know this time, we have to warn everyone in this tiny town. Maybe everyone should be together in the community center area. He only kills people alone. Can you ask for me? Thanks."

Mulder walks off who knows where to, and Scully is still annoyed at him for the shower incident, and now of course, he has her speak for him on these things.

She goes up to the sheriff and tells him the plan.

"Ma'am, we're a town full of right-wing conservatives. You think people are going to listen to that? We can try, but probably only half will agree."

"But I'm FBI," she says as if that will do anything.

"As far as I know, FBI can't force a whole town to have a sleepover."

"Or worse, I could have everyone evacuate."

"Yeah, but then the killer is one of us," the sheriff looks up from Scully and she turns around to find Mulder by her side again.

"No. It's a supernatural being. It's not human," Mulder says and with that, he walks away again, looking aimlessly around like he always does.

"That's your partner?"

"Sadly," Scully says, glancing to make sure he didn't hear.

Motel

2:00 a.m.

Back at the motel, they both decide to get some sleep. They say goonight, and Scully assumes Mulder was sleeping but she knew he was probably going to only get at most an hour, while he sat on the couch, the soft hum of the TV lulling him to sleep.

Just for precaution, Scully went in the bathroom, and put a chair up against his door, so in case she needed to go in the middle of the night, Mulder wouldn't walk in on her.

She was so exhausted, she fell asleep instantly.

Mulder lay down on the couch, looking at the TV which had some of the worst channels ever that a motel had. They didn't even have adult channels and he assumed they would. Sighing, he closes his eyes. and when he wakes up with a startle, falling off his bed. He checks the clock, it's 8:00 a.m, and all he knows is he's dying to go to the bathroom. He quickly gets up and replaying in his mind is his strange dream from last night.

All he remembers is that in the dream, him and Scully had some sort or argument and as he stormed off, he died in such an awful way, and Scully was cursing his name. He didn't want to remember that dream and hoped it was one of them that would pass.

Reach for the doornob, he tried opening the door, only to realize something was in the way, possibly a chair.

"Scully!" He shouted. "Open the door!" He slapped the door a few times, but nothing was happening.

He went outside and knocked on her outside door. "Scully!"

Scully thinks she hears something, as she wakes up with a startle to banging at her door. She grabs her gun on the nightstand, and looks through the peephole cautiously, only to realize it's Mulder.

She opens the door and before they can say anything, he races to the bathroom through her side, slamming the door.

"Oops," she says.

He comes out looking pissed, and Scully can't help but to laugh. "You could've gone in the bushes," she replies.

"Don't block the door!" 

"Sure. Fine. Whatever."

**Author's Note:**

> to be continued...


End file.
